


the heart of rock and roll is still beatin'

by DSK1138



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys, Spanking, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, aft play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:22:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26982823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DSK1138/pseuds/DSK1138
Summary: Ratchet talks Drift into trying something new. Just some robots in love being horny
Relationships: Drift | Deadlock/Ratchet
Comments: 4
Kudos: 89





	the heart of rock and roll is still beatin'

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came about when I was talking with some folks on the Dratchet discord! Big shout out to everyone, particularly thedragonfly and Tibra17 for contributing ideas!
> 
> I've been horny for Dratchet all week and wanted to give writing anal a try. Hope you enjoy!

To say that Ratchet and Drift had a healthy sex life was an understatement. In Ratchet’s very professional medical opinion, their sex life was alive and at peak health, but, then again, he was a bit biased from his current position, which happened to be on all fours with Drift’s spike rutting into his valve like they were turbofoxes in heat.

“Huh-  _ harder! _ ”

Drift obliged, his powerful thrusts sending Ratchet’s knees skidding across the berth, until a strong set of hands gripped him by the hips and yanked him backwards onto that firm spike, again and again.

Ratchet would never admit it openly, but he loved being mech handled. Drift’s deceptively slim frame had strength in spades, and Ratchet loved having that strength used against him, having Drift put him right where he wanted him.

They’d gotten good at lasting like this, too, much better since their first time, when Drift had overloaded with his spike just barely inside of Ratchet. After a lot of practice, they could go hard like this for hours, until Ratchet’s joints started to give out.

Had Ratchet’s hands not been desperately scrabbling at the berth, trying to keep himself upright, he would be touching his own spike right now, but Drift seemed to read his mind. The swordsmech reached between his legs, fondling at Ratchet’s length. He gave it a few pumps, drawing a shaky moan from Ratchet’s mouth.

Drift was always especially handsy when they did it in this position, and his other servo palmed at Ratchet’s aft, caressing the red plating.

Ratchet was so caught up in the heat of the moment that he was just as surprised as Drift was when he heard the sound of another port opening. Then he felt a cool brush of air against his exposed aft port, and realized what had happened.

Drift’s thrusts ceased entirely.

“Ratchet?”

“S-slag. I’m sorry kid. I don’t know what happened. I just got caught up.”

Drift sat back, taking his hands off of Ratchet.

“Is that… something you want?”

To be honest, Ratchet couldn’t answer that. It had been ages since he’d last used his aft port during interface, let alone thought of it. But it  _ had _ felt good when Drift touched him there, and he was always happy to try new things with his partner.

“I- I don’t know. Can we talk?”

Drift pulled out immediately, and while Ratchet mourned the loss of the spike inside of him, he knew he wouldn’t have trouble getting Drift hard again if they decided to continue.

He turned to face his partner, taking one of Drift’s servos in his, more out of force of habit than anything. He liked being close to Drift.

“Is it something you’d be open to? It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything like that, but I’d like to give it a try, if you’re comfortable with it.”

Drift’s brow furrowed as he thought it over.

“I’ve only tried it once, myself. I didn’t care for it much, but if it makes you feel good, I’d be okay trying it on you.”

Ratchet’s optics lit up as Drift added “I can’t be as rough as I am with your valve, though. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.” Even in just his time on the _ Lost Light _ , Ratchet had fixed many a fissure in mechs who got a little too rowdy with their aft ports, and had even had to dig out toys on a few occasions. He was never going to let Rodimus live that one down.

“We’ll work our way up to it. Now, can you please get your spike back inside of me this instant?”

“Bossy aft,” Drift laughed, pushing Ratchet onto his front again and sliding his spike back inside Ratchet’s valve in one quick stroke. Ratchet moaned his delight at being filled once more.

Once Drift had resumed his vigorous rhythm from before, he continued groping right where he’d left off, one servo on Ratchet’s spike, and the over hovering just above his aft port.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“I will.”

Stopping was the very last thing on his processor as Drift gingerly slipped one finger into Ratchet’s aft port. It was a tight fit, and one digit would be his limit for now, but Primus, it felt good. He let his frame relax, pressing his face into the berth as Drift worked his finger deeper.

“Feel good?”

“Mmmph.” All Ratchet could do was moan in confirmation.

Drift’s thumb came up to caress the outside of Ratchet’s aft port, helping him to relax as he built up enough of a stretch to wiggle his finger a bit.

“K-keep going.  _ Please _ , Drift!”

Without slowing the pace of his thrusts into Ratchet’s valve, Drift began to thrust his finger in and out of Ratchet’s aft. He was more gentle there than he was with Ratchet’s valve, but the contrast of rough and gentle made for a lovely sensation. Before he knew it, Ratchet was hurtling towards overload. His aft port clenched down around the digit inside of it, and Ratchet felt his pleasure amplified as he reached sweet release.

He was knocked offline for a few seconds, and when he blinked back to reality, Drift’s digit and spike were both gone from him. The hot splatter of transfluid against his aft told him Drift had reached climax too, but had chosen to mark Ratchet’s plating instead of coming inside him.

Ratchet could hardly complain, especially when Drift smeared the fluids around Ratchet’s aft with his finger.

Ratchet was rolled onto his back and greeted with a gentle kiss on the lips.

“You’re cleaning that up later.”

“‘Course, Ratty.” Drift laughed gently, his vents tickling Ratchet’s cheek. “So, was it good?”

“Yeah. It was great. Can we do it again, sometime? Your finger is good, but I want your spike.”

“All in good time, Ratty.” Drift smiled against his lips as he kissed him again.

-

They spent the next few weeks incorporating aft play into their interfacing, sometimes in subtle ways, like just a touch, and sometimes in more substantial ways. Drift was able to acquire a large assortment of aft plugs from somewhere - Ratchet didn’t ask, but he suspected Rodimus as the culprit.

Ratchet practiced on himself often- with Drift, when he was self servicing, hell, he even wore one to work one day.

His face flushed as he recalled collapsing against the desk in his office, too aroused to move. He’d had to call Drift to come remove the toy, and the swordsmech gleefully took advantage of Ratchet’s  _ precarious _ position and fragged him against his desk.

Okay, so in Ratchet’s defense, it was the longest damn foreplay  _ ever _ , and who could really blame him for getting aroused more often than usual these past few weeks, especially when Drift was there at every turn, with his sexy fragging hips and his handsome face?

He wouldn’t argue the length of time they took to build up to it. After all, he’d rather offline than end up as one of those infamous patients who had to go to the medbay to get their aft port repaired because they weren’t cautious enough. But Drift took that caution extra lengths.

_ Cheeky fragger. He’s doing it on purpose. Getting me all revved up, making me desperate for his spike. _

It wasn’t  _ fair _ , thought Ratchet as he returned to their shared hab after a long day at work. He’d had an early shift in the medbay, so there was still a bit of time before Drift returned.

Ratchet’s optics twinkled with mischief as he made his way to the berth room. He found their box of toys, running his servos over the collection of plugs. After a moment’s deliberation, he reached for a false spike instead- one of their smaller ones.

He made sure to grab the lubricant, too, before settling himself onto the berth with the toy. He shuttered his optics, thinking of Drift. Those shapely curves… the handsome smile, when he allowed his pointed fangs to show… the feeling of Drift’s hips colliding with his aft.

His aft port snapped open, and Ratchet slipped a finger inside. The lining inside stretched around him, much more than it had a few weeks ago. He added another finger, thrusting them gently together. When he was relaxed enough that he stretched with little resistance, he removed the fingers and reached for the toy in front of him.

He made sure to coat it in a generous amount of lubricant, then brought it back, pressing just the head inside of his aft. He moaned, and for a moment he thought he might overload if he continued, but after a few deep vents, he regained his composure enough to keep going.

He spent several minutes working the toy slowly into him, shuddering and moaning each time it bumped against one of the receptive sensors in his aft.

His legs shook as he took his hands away, leaving the spike pushed into his aft port. He lay belly-down on the berth, and waited for Drift to come home.

He thought about playing with his spike or valve while he waited, but decided against it. He didn’t want to get too worked up, and accidentally overload before Drift even had a chance to see him like this.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long. He heard the front door open and the familiar sound of Drift’s footsteps, which paused at one point to hang his swords on their spot on the wall, then continued towards the berth room.

“Ratty! Are you home?”

“Yeah, I’m in here.”

The door to their berth room slid open, and Ratchet turned his helm to get a glance at Drift’s expression, which was nothing short of pure shock. It wasn’t the first time one of them had surprised each other like this, spread out across the berth in an alluring pose, sometimes with a toy or their fingers buried inside of them, but the image of Ratchet with a false spike squeezed between his aft plates, lubricant drooling around the base of it- that was definitely new.

“You want to pick your jaw up off the ground and get over here?”

The berth rocked as Drift climbed onto it, his servos reaching out to gently caress Ratchet’s aft.

“Tonight, then? You sure you’re ready?”

“Can’t get any more ready than this.” Ratchet wiggled his hips, jostling the toy inside him, which caused a shudder of pleasure to race down his spinal strut.

“Mm. Can’t argue with that. Why don’t you get on all fours for me while I go grab some lubricant?”

Ratchet was quick to obey. He still had the lubricant from earlier, but Drift had his own he preferred. It was made of a conductive material, which helped carry charge between partners. When Drift returned, Ratchet was ready for him.

“Isn’t this a sight?” Drift purred, running his hands up Ratchet’s thighs. “I love seeing you like this, all hot and ready for me. You’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you Ratchet? About having my spike buried deep in your aft.”

Ratchet nodded. He’d been thinking about it for a lot longer than just today.

Drift ran a finger around the outside of Ratchet’s aft port, just along the edge of the toy.

“You’re able to accommodate so much more now, but I bet your aft is still much tighter than your valve. It’s going to feel so good around my spike.”

Ratchet squirmed, his impatience starting to get to him.

“Then hurry up and put it in me!”

He gasped as a sharp slap came out of nowhere, right down across his aft. He wasn’t expecting it, but immediately his array burned with arousal.

“You’re not the one giving orders tonight,” Drift said sternly. He caressed the plating where he’d smacked it. It didn’t hurt, it had just shocked Ratchet more than anything. Drift sent him a quick comm to make sure it was all right, which was met with an enthusiastic yes.

“Your job is to sit there like a good mech until I decide I’m ready to spike you. Understood?”

Ratchet grunted, and was met with another slap to his aft, this one much harder than before. The force of it jostled the toy inside of him, and he let out a loud moan.

“I can’t hear you.”

Ratchet muttered something incomprehensible, this time just testing the waters. Drift smacked him again, twice, in quick succession.

“Honestly, Ratchet. This kind of thing makes a mech think you almost  _ like _ being punished.”

Ratchet wasn’t about to deny it, and his loud moan when his aft was slapped again didn’t do anything to conceal his enjoyment.

Drift’s hot vents against his audial made him jump a little, as the swordsmech leaned forward to whisper.

“I’m not here to punish you tonight, though. I’m here to reward you. Let me give you your reward, Ratchet.”

“Y-yes.  _ Please _ , Drift.”

Ratchet did his best not to squirm as Drift moved back into position behind him. He heard the sound of a panel opening, and felt the press of a spike against his aft plating. Instinctively, he rocked back against it, but a firm servo on his back held him in place.

“Be patient, dear spark. This comes out first.”

The slide of the toy against his nodes as it was pulled out of him was heavenly, and Ratchet bit his own lip to keep from crying out in need.

“Don’t be afraid to make some noise for me, Ratty. I love when you make those lovely noises.”

He did make more noise, but this time it was a whine of need as the toy was pulled free, leaving his hole clenching desperately around air.

Drift ran his thumb over Ratchet’s aft port, caressing gently.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes! Oh, Pit yes, Drift!”

He thought for a moment that he might have to beg some more, but much to his satisfaction, Ratchet was met with the head of a spike pressing into his aft. He groaned, trying to push back against it, but Drift was still holding him in place. The lubricant Drift had used made Ratchet’s port tingle pleasantly, carrying charge over from the swordsmech’s spike. It helped him to relax more, knowing that Drift was aroused, too.

“Want to open your spike panel for me, Ratty?”

Drift’s voice cut through the fog of Ratchet’s arousal, and he eagerly let his panel snap open, spike bobbing against his abdomen. Drift reached his free hand down to stroke it, while at the same time angling his hips to push deeper inside of Ratchet.

“Does that feel okay?”

“It feels amazing.” Ratchet’s voice was laced with static, and he swallowed, hard.

Drift continued to pump his spike, building into a rhythm with the movement of his hips. With each pull of Ratchet’s spike, he worked his own spike a little more into Ratchet, until, after what felt like a painfully long time for Ratchet, he had finally worked himself all the way inside.

“How do you feel?”

“G-good! So good.”

Words could barely express it. Drift felt  _ so _ much better than any of Ratchet’s toys. The stretch of his spike was incredible, just enough to push Ratchet’s limits, but not enough to be painful. Every time he shifted, he brushed against another long untouched node, stimulating it nearly to the brink of being overwhelming. Honestly, Ratchet wasn’t sure what he enjoyed more: the physical pleasure of it, or the more devious pleasure he got from the knowledge that he was being debauched in a way he hadn’t before, at least, not with Drift.

“Tell me if it starts to be too much, okay?”

Ratchet nodded, the only thing he could really do, and Drift set a pace, rolling his hips slowly and reveling in the feel of his partner tight around him.

“Primus, Ratty, you feel wonderful. So nice and tight, just for me.”

He worked Ratchet over like that for a while, dragging his spike out and then pushing it slowly back in, until Ratchet’s limbs were trembling. It was too much, he needed to overload.

“ _ Drift _ .” The pleading tone of his voice was all Drift needed to hear, and he picked up the pace, more confident now that he wasn’t going to hurt his lover.

Ratchet’s mouth remained parted in a permanent gasp as he struggled to vent. The servo on his back shifted up his frame, gripping at the back of his neck. The other one pumped at his spike with more intensity, determined to work him to overload.

With a possessive growl of his engine, Drift leaned across Ratchet’s back and nipped the side of his neck, and that was what did it. Ratchet hurtled into overload, aft spasming around Drift’s length as a wet spray of transfluid from his own spike coated Ratchet’s belly.

He heard a loud cry of bliss, but it took him a moment to register that it was his own. The next thing he registered was a warmth blooming in his aft- Drift must have overloaded, too.

They spent a moment like that, panting, and then Ratchet collapsed forward against the berth, completely spent.

Drift pulled out, and Ratchet was sure he looked a complete mess with oral lubricant drooling down his chin and Drift’s transfluid spilling out of his aft, but he was too tired to care, especially when Drift gently turned him on his side and wrapped his arms around him from behind, cuddling him close.

“Don’t think I’m going to be able to walk tomorrow. I’ll have to call First Aid and tell him I can’t come in.”

“I already did.” Ratchet could practically  _ hear _ the smug grin in Drift’s voice, but despite rolling his optics in mock annoyance, his spark warmed a little. What did he ever do to deserve being spoiled like this?

“Thank you for indulging me.”

“Any time, Ratty. I enjoyed it a lot. I’d even like to try it again sometime, if you’re willing. And, um, maybe let you play with my aft, too, if you want.”

Ratchet’s engine choked, and he turned his head to pull Drift into a kiss, nipping playfully at his bottom lip.

“Kid, I’d be more than willing.”


End file.
